To Be Protected
by ZeroGravityDog
Summary: Oneshot FE: PoR After Tormod risks his life, Sothe begins to slowly understand the friendship he and the desert mage share. Light Yaoi TormodxSothe and implied others. Warning some violence and blood. Takes place recently after Ch 22.


GAH! This one took me forever to write! And it's a lot longer. Anyway, it's kinda a second story to the first 'To Be Warm'. I'm toying with the idea of writing two more, but I'm unsure.

...Hey! Enough of my blabbering. Read my second FE fic! Kay?

Category: Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance or FE9.

Main: Sothe and Tormod

Pairings: Light Tormod/Sothe with implied/hinted others.

Summary: Sothe learns just how protective his friend can be. After Chapter 22.

Disclaimer: Don't own Fire Emblem.

* * *

To Be Protected 

"Don't look at me like that." Tormod pleaded. But he refused to look at his friend in the eye, casting his vision off to the side.

The thief responded with a 'Tch' not taking his eyes off of the scrap. His slim hands skillfully, cleaned the wound. The mage was currently sitting on a pristine bed, along with white robed priests who were settled on other beds. Sothe was beside him, a bowl of water and clean clothes next to him on a small wooden table, tending to his friend. His emerald eyes narrowed at the slash across the shoulder. Tormod, catching it out of the corner of his eye, cringed.

So, what happened that brought these two here? Let's rewind and see, shall we?

* * *

Sothe dodged another strike, his body twisting around. His dagger flew out, parrying the sword just in time. He let his enemy fly by, before plunging the metal object into the swordsman's back side. A scream and a curse was his answer, along with a punch in the face. The thief stumbled backwards, a hand cupping his nose for fear of bleeding. He blinked once or twice, and found his enemy upon him, sword pulled back to swing forward and behead him. 

"Sothe!!" a voice called out. A large green blur flew before his eyes, smashing into the enemy and sending him across the floor. Muarim's body positioned itself between Sothe's would be killer and the thief. Tormod ran behind his laguz friend, stopping beside his human one. "Are you alright?" he asked, his dark eyes skimming over him.

It had been after Tormod declared them to be friends, that they were always seen together. Roughly after the two had meet, Sothe found himself a follower. The mage had tagged along multiple times, annoying Sothe on missions. Where he was light and quick, the red head was clumsy and slow. The mage claimed it's what friends do. Protect each other and such. Sothe found it annoying...

After the fourth time of tagging along, Sothe finally had it. And taught him the ways of...well, the footwork of thievery.

"I'm fine." he replied, removing his hand from his face. No blood. That was a good sign, but his face was killing him at the moment. Tormod's eyes looked at him, passing over his body for wounds, before cracking a smile.

"Good to hear!" He turned towards his laguz friend. "Hey Muarim! Wait for me!" The desert mage launched himself on the green tiger's back with ease. Sothe wondered how in the world the mage could do that, but couldn't for the life of him not step on a twig! He sighed, shoving his dagger into its sheath. The green haired youth was just surveying the area when his name was called.

"Sothe!" Mia cried. Her slim form pushed aside a priest who happened to be frozen with fear. The thief was surprised how strong she was, compared to her looks. "Out of the way!" She ordered, before stumbling in front of him. "Hey there!" A smile was planted on her face. "There's a few chests back there that could use your attention." A hand motioned towards the door she, Boyd, and Lethe had just exited.

Sothe nodded in understanding, and the three darted towards the right side of the temple where Rolf, Soren, and Ike fought. The thief turned around to see Tormod busy barbequing an ax wielder. He noted the almost purple tinge to the weapon. Poisoned. It appeared that his...friend noticed it as well, as Muarim evaded the man, refusing to attack lest he get nicked by the weapon. An arrow shot by the tiger, only to plant itself in the forearm of the rogue. Rolf ran from the other room after Mia and Lethe and Boyd ran in. Oscar followed after the youngest, a lance flying from his hands only to land in the man's side. He saw Rhys not to far off, with Titania blocking him from sword swings, and ax swipes.

He decided that Tormod wasn't needed. With the group being outnumbered everyone was needed, and Sothe figured that the three had taken care of any opponents hanging around the treasure.

Besides...he didn't need anyone to protect him. Nor to take care of him. He was born and learned to rely on himself in his years. The closest people he could, or would, call family was his thief friends. But Sothe hadn't met them until after a few years of independence and self reliance.

Slipping away from his friend, the green haired youth made his way past the priest, many who were cowering from the battle. He had to give them some credit, to act as a human shield against an enemy who could kill you. But this was Ike's company. And Ike's company wouldn't stoop to something so low. One of the many reasons Sothe respected his commander.

Slipping out of his friends sight, Sothe made his way towards the empty hallway. The sounds of battle faded a bit, as he found himself with in a lit room. Quickly, scanning it the thief smiled with satisfaction at familiar looking boxes. Sothe pulled out a small cloth bag that held all the necessary tools for a thief to successfully pick doors and chest as he neared the small box. Skillfully, he picked out a thin metal pin, with a simple twist at the end. And began earning his title as thief. He carefully stuck it inside the lock, listening for the spring inside to disconnect which would signal his success. Sothe just settled the thin pin inside the lock, when a low growl echoed. Twisting around, the thief saw a teeth, whiskers and dark eyes.

Sothe screamed as claws ripped through his side. He placed a hand over the bleeding wound, using the other to unsheathe the small dagger by his hip. A swordsman suddenly appeared in his vision. With a cynical smile, the man kicked Sothe in the side watching as the green haired youth crawl in pain to the second chest.

His side was on fire and his blood was covering his hand. A hiss escaped his lips, the dagger fell from his hand. With it free he placed it over the wound in hopes of slowing the flow of his life. Leaning against the wooden box, trimmed in metal, was all the thief could do as he saw two crazed laguz and a swordsman approach their prey. They always say theirs a flash of light and you would watch your life flash in seconds before your dying vision. As such, Sothe waited breifly wondering if it was true. However, it seemed as if fate had other ideas, as a large green blur tacked the two laguz, sending one crashing into the other. The swordsman sneered, snapping around only to have a boot shoved in his face.

"SOTHE!"

He knew that voice. "Tormod?" The name sounded weak in his ears causing him to sneer at himself. The desert mage knelt down, already wincing at the blood gushing from the wound. "Muarim!" The tiger laguz back away slowly from the two enemies. His own claws dripping with crimson liquid once belonging to one of his insane brothers. The green beast lowered himself down, and with the red haired youth's help, Sothe was able to climb into the back. However, the mage didn't move.

"Tormod..." his beast friend growled.

"Muarim, take him to Rhys! I'll hold them off." Tormod declared.

On top of the laguz, Sothe wasn't sure, but believed that Muariam barred his teeth, "I don't like this Little One."

"There's no time." The tome was opened, a hand hovering over the text.

Sothe eyed his friend. His mind sending millions of questions that pierced through the pain. Why was he doing this? He was risking his life in order to save his. Why? What possible reason did the desert mage have that would make him do this? But all his mouth was able to say was, "Tormod..." Was this what it _really_ meant to have a friend??

"No time. I'll be fine. GO!!"

Holding onto the laguz, he felt Muarim take a deep breath before releasing it, in a blood chilling cry. Pass the mugginess of his mind, Sothe could feel the soft fur on his arms, as well as the warm blood soaking his clothing.

He had never ridden a laguz before, and wasn't sure what to make of it, as his mind was clouded with pain. Sothe gripped the fur tightly, as the rush of wind threatened to tear him off.

"Muarim!" Rhys cried, seeing blood covering the tiger's body. He turned his attention from a wounded priest to the laguz. Crystal eyes flashed towards Ike and the others. Many of the rouges by now were dead or severely wounded. Now, they were battling the last of them. The brothers had ducked back into the west wing, chasing after two sages, while Titania, Mia, Lethe, and Soren were with Ike fending off some mages, axe wielders, and another archer. The white robed man took it upon himself to aid his fellow priests who were unlucky and were hit during battle.

"Tend to Sothe," he growled. Lowering himself to the ground, the beast tried his best to make to the distance from his back to the floor as minimal as possible. Even so, the thief slid off with a hiss of pain almost collapsing. His dark eyes watched the white robed man kneel at the youth's side. Deciding that the two would be fine turned around. Muarim was eager to return to Tormod's side, when a strangled cry of 'Look out' halted him. The laguz turned around just in time to see the robed man dodge a sword. Growling so low, his teeth flashed in the light, catching the attacker off guard. In the single moment of surprise, Muarim had pounced.

* * *

(A little bit before Sothe's attack, so you won't get confused.) 

Tormod smiled as another enemy fell to the ground, dead. It served them right, considering they were virtually enslaving the priests. The whole ordeal fell close to home for the two, and fueled their anger and effort. His eyes drifted around, to see Soren and Ike together fending off a some archers, and...he could see a bishop in the back, a knife to his throat. A few words from the rouge's mouth reached the desert youth. And he understood that he was trying to force the bishop to attack Ike and Soren.

Oscar could be seen further down, with Mia. Both fighting off some rouge's with poisoned weapons. Boyd and Titania were in the right wing, killing off a few more. Rolf, Lethe, and Rhys could be seen next to two mages and a crazed laguz. Suddenly, Muarim stopped.

"Muarim? What is it?" his brow furrowed down. When his friend had his head tilted to the air like that, something was up.

"Your friend. He's in trouble."

"Sothe!" the mage cried. He yanked on Muarim, but he didn't need to. The tone in his voice was all the guardian needed to hear, and he launched into action. The large tiger knew how important the other was, and needed no. Ripping through one enemy's armor, Muarim sprinted over, his large paws crushing the stone beneath him. He reacted first, upon entering the room, launching his large body towards two of the laguz brothers. The desert mage leapt off of him, throwing his foot into the face of the swordsman sending him to the opposite wall. "SOTHE!" was his first word. Tormod knelt down, letting his dark eyes run over his friend's bleeding body.

"Tormod..." the word was breathed from the pale lips, and the mage felt anger boil in his blood.

"Muarim!"

Slipping an arm around the thief, Tormod aided him onto the green tigers back. But instead of joining him the mage pulled out his tome.

Already sensing his intentions, Muarim gave a low growl of frustration. "Tormod..."

"Muarim, take him to Rhys! I'll hold them off."

The glorious tiger bared his teeth, "I don't like this Little One."

"There's no time." Tormod yelled, his hand flipping through his Tome.

Sothe looked at the red haired youth, a glimmer of confusion and surprise within his emerald orbs. "Tormod..."

"No time. I'll be fine. GO!!"

His teeth still showing, the laguz released a loud roar, and jumped away. Tormod quickly saw his friend dance around the priest that stood by the thugs. His attention returned just in time, as a flash of metal flew by his head. Inches from his face. Dodging the weapon, he positioned himself behind a pillar, and faced the crazed laguz. He swallowed, wondering what kind of trouble he had put himself in. It gave a low growl, a bit of foam spilling from its mouth. Tormod rushed to his right, just in time, as the laguz smashed into the pillar. Pieces flew from the impact. The desert mage called forth his magic, sending a fireball, the size of a healthy pig, on a collision course with the crazed beast. It hit dead center, setting the laguz's chest a blaze. He grimaced as the beast roared in pain, its fur burning in the heat, its lungs heating and dying. "Sorry." he softly said, as the laguz fell limply to the floor. The desert mage shifted to his right, just in time to dodge a metal blade.

He rolled off to the side, before shouting a quick spell. A small fire ball no bigger than his fist flew into the swordsman's arm. He yelled out in pain and glared at the mage. "Damn you!" Raising his sword, the enemy charged.

Tormod barely dodged the attack, shifting to his left. The blade nicked his arm. Wincing, the red haired youth, kicked a foot out causing the other to trip. His opponent crashed to the floor, but stood up quickly. Tormod swung around, using his book as a weak weapon. The swordsman was too close for him to use a spell, there wouldn't be any time to speak the ancient language.

The tome connected with the blade, halting it half way through. With a short test of strength the two jumped away from each other. Tormod gave his tome a quick glance only to bit his bottom lip. The blade had sliced into the pages and ripped a few when the sword was jerked out. He had memorized many of the low level spells, but only a slim amount of the medium level spells, and he and Calill had only touched upon the high level spells yesterday. The ancient text rolled off his tongue, easily. Small fireballs, similar to the one he had called earlier, manifested around him. Then with another syllable, the fireballs launched themselves towards the enemy. The swordsman sneered and lunged at the Tormod. They bombarded the enemy, scorching cloth and skin. Still, he continued, sword poised.

The mage quickly moved to his left, seeing the blade aimed at his abdomen. But he had guessed wrong. The blade wasn't targeted for his stomach, his vital organs. Instead it was plunged into his right thigh. Tormod screamed, as the metal sliced into his skin and muscle. With a satisfied smirk, the swordsman yanked it out and watched with sickening pleasure as the leader of the laguz fell on his side. The mage gripped his wounded leg with one hand, and used the other to pull him away from his attacker.

He cackled as he griped the blood covered blade. Slowly, the swordsman walked over, stopping at the forgotten tome. A frown temporary replaced the gleeful smile. Then he kicked the book, letting it skid past Tormod and father away from him, until it hit the far chest. It was a cruel game, as the red haired youth crawled away with the swordsman following, slowly. The enemy smiled, seeing the fear deep within red eyes. Tormod had made it to the second chest when his opponent halted him. Apparently, the swordsman had grown tired of watching him, and now had his foot over the mage's ankle. The laguz leader swallowed hard. This was it. Death was near. He looked around for help, anything. That's when he saw it. Sothe's dagger, hidden behind the chest out of his enemy's sight.

Without a second thought, he grabbed the slim weapon and plunged it into the man's thigh. The mage pulled himself up, hissing with pain, and stumbled away from the screaming enemy. He virtually collapsed upon the last chest, and grabbed his tome once more. He flipped through the pages, before settling on one that hadn't been sliced. It happened to be one of the most difficult spells. His red eyes skimmed the ancient language, which appeared before his eyes as nothing more than gibberish. The pain in his leg was forcing his focus else where, and his hand shook as it hovered over the text.

"I've gotta concentrate!" He shouted at himself, squeezing his red eyes shut. And Tormod recalled his brief lessons with Calill.

"_Tormod, magic is unlike any other weapon. It does not forgive. If you lose concentration..." The sage locked eyes with her pupil. "If you hesitate...If you fail to respect it...People will die. Friends will die."_

"Okay!" The mage settled his hand on the open book. "Here goes nothing!" The ancient words rolled off his tongue with ease, his nerves stabilizing.

His enemy stopped, hand still gripped around the hilt of the dagger. Tormod also remained where he was, palm pointed directly at the enemy. The ground shook, and a red hue filled the room. The swordsman, still crippled, glanced around with an almost curious stare. In the entrance, Muarim just leaped in, his bulky frame glowing in the red light. Fire erupted from the stone cracks, the only warning the swordsman had before he too was engulfed in flames. A single scream, lasting no more than two seconds ripped the air and then was gone. The flames licked the ceiling, heating the stone. Waves of heat filled the east wing, descending out of the doorway, passing Muarim, and escaping into the chilled main room. The awesome pillar of flames slowly dissipated, flowing back down into the ground. The only evidence was the hole in the stone floor. The heavy gray rocks were no longer there, and one could see the packed dirt the building was constructed on.

"Little One..." the green tiger breathed, his voice full of awe and respect.

Tormod smiled, "Piece of cake." His laguz friend slowly made his way towards the small boy. Once he reached the mage, the laguz laid down, allowing the desert mage to climb on his back, similar to what Sothe had done.

After the battle, the priest had taken to apologizing, multiple times, offering rooms for the night and their aid for the wounded. However, little aid was possible as a rogue had noted the losing battle, and burned any medicine. Ike had immediately killed him.

* * *

And that puts us where they are now. 

With Sothe tending to a wounded Tormod.

He had insisted that he was allowed to care for the mage. The priest who had been tending to him, conceded noting that the wounds left were not but scrapes. He had previously taken care of the boy's thigh, which would heal well, but required rest and for the boy to stay off of it for a week or two. Sothe and Tormod had watched the white robed man leave before settling into that awkward silence. The red haired youth could tell that his friend was pissed at him. Not wanting to deal with fierce emeralds he looked away.

The mage's eyes fell upon the other side of the room. He could plainly see Rhys walking back and forth, tending to the wounded, as well as a reluctant Soren, who was obeying orders from the soft spoken priest. It seemed that Ike's company wasn't the only to have casualties. A few priests were wounded with in the battle. Not from them of course, but from the rogues who, noticing the losing battle, decided to kill of the 'worthless' priests.

Mist was also running about, offering what help she could. He watched as Rolf limped over, and the cleric practically screamed. The young girl quickly rushed over, stopped and observed him before throwing herself on him. Rolf and Mist collided with the floor, as the archer hadn't expected her reaction. She immediately jumped off, shouting out an apology and helped him inside.

Tormod envied Mist and Rolf. The two were so close. Of course, they had been together since...well, he wasn't sure since, but figured it had been since babies or something like that.

Regardless, the mage wanted to share the same companionship that the two had with the thief. He didn't expect Sothe to understand him then. Maybe he could now? The leader of the laguz took this moment of peace to form his reasoning into words.

With the binding in place the green haired youth, looked up at his patient. Only to find him staring off into the distance. Sothe gazed in the same direction, only to focus upon Mist and Rolf. The former was close to hysterics, seeing the wounds decorating the archer's body. The thief could only imagine what she was saying to the other, as Mist whipped out a bag of herbs and medicine. Rolf appeared to be protesting against it as he sat on a bed. Sothe imagined he was saying that the priests were in need of her assistance then he was.

Mist didn't listen. She settled herself right next to him, and began cleaning a particularly nasty wound at his forearm.

Sothe regarded the two in silent observation. The cleric was pouting as she wrapped his shoulder up, while Rolf was just apologizing to the worried girl. Friends. That's what they were. And friends tend to worry about the other, care about the other. The green haired youth thought back on the battle. He _had_ been worried about Tormod. Goddess above! He had took on a crazed laguz and swordsman on his own, with a tome only half useful. There he was bleeding his life out, and he was fretting over the desert mage rather than his own life first. Sothe particularly didn't care for the range of emotions that came with being worried. And yet, the immense relief he had felt upon laying eyes on the living mage, was incredible. It almost made up for the constant worry.

Emerald eyes flickered towards the bandaged areas. He also _had_ cared for him. Being the one to clean the wounds gave Sothe a feeling of satisfaction. And just being near the other filled him with tranquility.

Friends...

Such a odd concept and relationship between two people. Still, Sothe believed he could get used to having one around.

"You need to rest," the thief stated. The mage looked at him with a curious stare before nodding. All of his thoughts of explanation faded as he realized how tired he was. Sothe aided the other, slinging an arm around his waist, and the other grasping Tormod's arm he had slung over his shoulders. The two exited the infirmary, and made their way towards an empty sleeping area, which Sothe had to ask directions to. They passed Titania and Oscar, who were tending to their horses. Ike was watching them, apparently going over the damages of the day. Oscar, the only one to notice them, gave a short nod, which Tormod returned with a small smile. The thief and mage continued down the hall before taking a left into a clean room. A couple of beds lined the room, four in all, and a desk along with two chests for clothing, so the green haired youth guessed. Adjusting his friend's arm, and his, the thief led Tormod over to one of the beds.

The mage laid down in the bed, and practically dragged Sothe with him. By the time the green haired youth had fell upon the cushion, Tormod had already fallen asleep, an arm once again wrapped around his waist. Sothe rolled his eyes, before sighing. It looked like he wasn't going anywhere tonight. The thief was starting to regret ever letting the mage sleep with him last night. A sigh escaped his lips and he reached for the blanket positioned at the bottom of the bed. But Tormod's arm around his waist suddenly tightened and he absently snuggled closer to his friend. Sothe fell back down on the bed, with yet another sigh. Noting that there wasn't he wasn't going anywhere, the green haired youth shifted a bit, to get more comfortable. He glared at the blanket once, it was mocking him he swore, and closed his emerald eyes.

* * *

The next day, Ike and company began its trip back to the main army. Sothe insisted on riding with Tormod, reasoning that the mage would still need to rest. Muarim voiced no opposition, and the thief got his way. He climbed on top of the tiger, and aided his friend. And they left, at a reasonable pace. During the first half of the journey, the party did light conversation, but after high noon silence ruled over them.

Sothe took a moment to view the others of their small band. Lethe walked slowly behind them, close to Muarim. She didn't talk, nor did her fellow laguz tried to converse with her. There was a mutual agreement, or no need for words between them. The green haired youth wasn't sure. But he let his glance travel away from the female.

Emerald eyes rested upon Boyd and Mia, both were talking animatedly. One with disgust and the other with amusement. It appeared that the female swordsman was trying to convince the other to become her sparing partner. Normally, Boyd jumped for any real life training, as he preferred it over swinging at imaginary fighters. However, Sothe believed that the female's obsession with dueling at dawn was making the fighter think twice.

He left them, to see Titania sharing her mount with Rhys. The priest was exhausted after that last battle and last night, having over exerted his body's capability. Sothe had heard the man had a frail body, and was sick at a young age. Rhys leaned against the other, his head resting against her back, above the straps of leather. White covered arms were slung around her waist, carefully avoiding her breast plate. A content smile as on his face, and the red and silver clad paladin seemed just as happy as her sleeping companion.

Leading their merry band, was Ike, Soren and Oscar, who was leading his mount by foot. The three were sharing small talk. He watched as the dark mage almost stumbled, but was caught by Ike. The tactician offered his thanks. The commander shared a concern look with Oscar before speaking. Sothe watched as what appeared to be an argument. He really didn't pay much attention to them, but Oscar remounted and pulled Soren up with him. The dark mage possibly, no correct that, Sothe could guarantee that he resisted one last time. Ike however wouldn't have any of it, and strolled over to the horse. Soren, glared at the land in front of him, Oscar riding behind the small mage, with his hands holding onto the reins. Like a barrier to keep the dark haired man from falling. Ike lifted a hand to wrap around the bridle, a gentle smile on his face. From his position, behind them, Sothe couldn't see what was happening, but guessed that Soren eventually fell asleep.

The slim arms were tightly wound around his waist, and the mage gave a gentle nuzzle into Sothe's back. And as they traveled back to camp the thief smiled. This time, it would be him doing the protecting.

* * *

So that's it. I think the fight scenes were too long. And not much exploration between Sothe and Tormod's relationship/friendship as I wanted. Oh well. It'll do. Oh yeah! Calill actually does say that to Tormod in their support conversations. Can't remember which one, but I thought it added something to the story.

So why don't you go click that little purple button and leave a review!

Z-Dog out!


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